I guess I had it coming. My first three days sober were so easy. Suspiciously so. But these last two days? So tough.
It’s not surprising really – I quite often go three days without a drink. Two or three days is about how long the guilt and remorse from the last big session plays on my mind for. Then I forget all about it and wine is my best friend again.
Yesterday I went back to work for the first time since I stopped drinking. I don’t work regular hours – I work shifts. They’re 12 hours long and pretty stressful. By the time I get home I’m still wired.
Nothing would help me decompress better than an entire bottle of white wine. Wine and some crap telly would just flick that off switch. Precious ‘me’ time after a busy day.
These are the thoughts swirling round my head today. But I am not going to drink. I am NOT. If I drink a bottle of wine I will wake up on the sofa at 2am. I will crawl into bed for a few hours and then wake up again, tired and dehydrated at 5am. I will have to go to work hungover and sit in the morning meeting wondering if anyone can tell. I will struggle to do my job. I will eat crap all day and then drink again as a reward for getting through the day.
So that is why I’m not going to drink tonight.